


Happy Birthday, Love

by SealandRocks



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Birthday Sex, Filth, Hot Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Rimming, it's honestly so filthy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 16:31:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5097488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SealandRocks/pseuds/SealandRocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Icy pinpricks fell over Sherlock’s skin, cold turning suddenly to heat that melted his body into the sheets without his command to do so. </p><p>Shameless porn for a certain someone's birthday!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, Love

**Author's Note:**

> A birthday present for fangirlscout! Happy birthday, here's some unedited smut for you!! Also, everyone go follow her on Tumblr, she's amazing. She's also Sexxica here on Ao3!

Icy pinpricks fell over Sherlock’s skin, cold turning suddenly to heat that melted his body into the sheets without his command to do so. He gasped softly, letting his head fall back as hot ice was poured over his body, skittering down his spine into his fingertips and pulling to the core of his body like some great, astronomical force. His toes curled into the sheets were his legs were propped up and open, allowing for the infuriatingly slow ministrations of a certain army doctor that was positioned between them. Lips touched the sensitive skin of Sherlock’s inner thigh, and he gasped, tingles of silver ribbons wrapping their silky way around his body and mind and completely untying the inhibitions that bound him by day. John could always do that, whisper the summoning chants of the dream snakes to come make Sherlock fall apart, spreading him out in a puddle over the sheets and completely open for John to do with him as he wished.

John licked a long stripe up the length of Sherlock’s cock, the hard flesh turning a cherry red at the attention and causing Sherlock to whimper in need. Oh, Sherlock knew this tactic all too well. John would drive him mad with lust, desperate for the pleasure only being filled could provide, and keep him on edge until he was certain Sherlock would be shaking for days just thinking about how good it would be. Sherlock loved every second of it. John licked him again, humming against the hot skin and making Sherlock’s cock twitch in need. Sherlock couldn’t concentrate, John’s mouth creating its own universe for Sherlock to live in, even if the feeling of those strong hands tracing the lines of his ribs felt so good. 

John shuffled a bit further down, still mapping out the contours of Sherlock’s body with his hands. Sherlock was nearly panting, his senses overloaded. He certainly hadn’t expected this out of the evening. He and John had just been eating dinner, exchanging pleasantries between coy smiles over the table, and the next thing he knew Sherlock was bent over the table, moaning into the wood as his boyfriend did enthusiastic, filthy things with his tongue. 

Sherlock jolted, his back arching a bit as he groaned loudly. John’s hot tongue was back on his entrance, placing lewd, open-mouthed kisses on the pucker and sinking his tongue easily inside. He was opening him up, getting him ready for more, and Sherlock was trying to absorb every second of it. The smell of sex and John and lust was so strong that Sherlock was dizzy with it, gulping down air as if just tasting John there would bring him more pleasure. There was no doubt in Sherlock’s mind, as John’s brilliant tongue spread him open and his lips murmured quiet ‘I love you’s, that he was in heaven.

Finally, after long, torturous minutes, John sat back on his heels, wiping the spit off his chin and grinning. Sherlock couldn’t even think long enough to find a witty response, looking up at John pleadingly and weakly lifting his hands to grasp at the other’s naked shoulders. John complied, laying himself over Sherlock and kissing him firmly. 

Their sweat mixed on their skin and made it impossible to tell where John ended and Sherlock began. But they were not yet one, not in the way they wanted to be. Sherlock had to break the kiss for air, whispering into John’s ear how desperately he wanted to be one with John, to have his cock inside him again, and the words drew a delicious growl out of him. 

Sherlock was being pressed into the mattress by John’s torso, and it was getting hard to breathe, but Sherlock found he didn’t have the mind to complain as John lifted his hips and sunk inside him all at once. They groaned in unison, the feeling of heat and tightness and melding together too much for them to contain any noises any longer.

Sherlock was dimly aware of the embarrassingly high sounds he released every time John thrust into his body, but he didn’t care. John was filling him up to the brim, giving him this part of himself that Sherlock treasured with his whole heart, and nothing was better than this. The bed rocked, creaked, and groaned almost as much as the two men themselves. John’s hands, which had been pulling Sherlock back down onto his cock as he thrust harder and harder into him, left his brilliant detective and gripped onto the headboard, and they really started to move.

It was a crazed, passionate, heated dance that neither of them particularly wanted to end. The headboard was making a wonderfully firm thwacking sound on the wall, and John was increasing his pace as Sherlock tilted his hips up and pushed back down on him, and it was nirvana. Sherlock cried out as John hit his prostate, his head burrowing backwards into the sheets as John growled, snapping his hips forward and back, again and again, hitting that spot each time with doctoral precision. Sherlock had just enough time to croak out that he was close, and John was back on him, hands slicking over his sensitive cock and his mouth sucking dark, plum-colored marks so deep into Sherlock’s neck that you could see his complete dental record. 

Sherlock’s orgasm was blindingly brilliant, and he was beyond shouting by this point so he just gasped breathlessly, his entire body tightening as pleasure overloaded his mind palace and erupted into his body. John groaned when Sherlock got tighter around him, and through the white haze Sherlock could feel him coming inside him, filling him up perfectly. And then they slumped into the sheets, still rocking and shaking with aftershocks even as John’s cock softened and they both went easily into oversensitivity. 

It took three minutes for either of them to move again. John was the first to do so, pressing languid kisses to Sherlock’s collar bone and causing the detective to smile. Sherlock pulled him up weakly so that they could kiss properly, the sweet tug of lips making up for the emptiness that followed John pulling out of him. 

“Happy birthday, love.” John whispered between kisses, and Sherlock giggled, high on pleasure and thinking just how lucky he was to have someone as great as John to call his own.


End file.
